Roses and Wings
by WindyCanyon
Summary: Angel AU. Mathew is the eldest child in a very wealthy family, suffering from the disgrace of old rumors, has traveled to France to visit his aunt and his mother's grave. He'll meet someone there who will change his life forever.
1. Chapter 1

The plane finally touched down in Paris. Matthew could only sigh, the busy streets of France's fine capitol held no interest to him. Yes, he was the son of a wealth businessman, but petty things like car or fashion were not him. At just a glance, he looked like any other person in his favorite maroon sweatshirt and baggy jeans, nothing like his brother and his designer jackets. _I wonder how Alfred is doing now... He must hate it in England,_ he thought to himself. His younger brother was being sent away for the summer to rainy England for acting like an idiot and throwing a party in their parent's mansion.

Matthew was his father's first son, but for many years rumors spread like wildfire that he was an illegitimate heir to his father's company. Although in the end the rumors were proven untrue, but the damage was done to his reputation, he would never be as successful as his brother if he ever inherited their father's job. _I'll never be as good as my brother... He already has me beat for father's love._ He knew he wasn't the favorite son, but he would always try to be the perfect child in hope his father would notice him. He never was any trouble, but he would never be as good as Alfred in his father's eyes. _Maybe Father will notice me now that Alfred has caused so much disgrace._

"You are now allowed to gather your things and exit the plan," the attendant's voice ripped him from his antagonizing thoughts.

_I guess it's time..._ He sighed again and reluctantly got his carry-on bag from the bin above him.

He slowly left the plane and got his suitcase from the baggage lines. Gloom seemed to cling to him like a leech, sucking the life out of his body. Matthew slowly made his way out to the car that was waiting for him.

"Hello, sir. How was your flight?" The driver's accent was heavy, but understandable as he opened the door for Matthew and took his bags.

"It was fine," Matthew's voice was quiet and subdued, then he stepped into the car.

The driver put his bags in the trunk and slipped into the front seat. "That is good. The mistress has awaited your arrival for many days, she is very excited to see you."

"And I her... How is my dear aunt?" He stared glumly out the window.

"She stays mostly inside as the day of your mother's death draws near," the driver's voice was grave. "But I suppose she is fine."

"That's good..." He said quietly and clenched a fistful of the soft cloth of his sweatshirt.

Silence continue for the rest of the forty-two minute drive. Matthew watched the scenery slowly transform from expensive boutiques to houses and then to small farms every now and then, until there was nothing but rows of grapes passing him by. _Or is it me passing them by... No, they grow much quicker than I do...Lucky them, they live such simple lives..._ Matthew shook his head. _Stop that, you must be pleasant for Auntie._

"We are here." The driver pulled into the long driveway that was lined by tall trees. "Look, she's waiting for us."

Matthew looked up to see his aunt sitting in a chair on the large wrap around porch, golden light of the late afternoon painting the large house a warm amber. "She really is..." He was slightly surprised.

The driver pulled to a stop into the garage. "I'll get your bags, sir. Go visit the mistress, she will be very happy to see you."

He nodded. "Thank you for driving me." He swiftly stepped out of the car and nearly ran to meet his aunt.

"Mattie!" A familiar voice reached him before the small woman rounded the corner.

A wide smile spread across his face. "Auntie." He enveloped her into a hug, picking her up off the ground and spinning around.

She laughed, clinging to him tightly. "You've grown so big since I last saw you!"

He put her back down on her feet. "Well it was a long time ago when I last saw you."

"Yes, but now you're so much taller than me. I don't even reach your shoulder!" She pouted, her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

The sharp blade of pain shot through his chest at how much she looked like his mother. "Yeah, you haven't changed one bit though."

She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and stood tall, looking much like a queen. "I don't have to, perfection has already been achieved," she said playfully, an impish grin stretched across her delicate features.

Matthew snorted. "If you say so."

"Of course I say so!" She punched him in the shoulder lightly. "Oh, come on, you unruly child." She walked gracefully down the hallway.

He rolled his eyes and followed.

She led him to out to a small table filled with all kinds of cheeses and breads, a dark red wine already poured into glasses was set on the table by the butler. "Please sit and eat whatever you like."

He sat. "Thank you, Auntie." Matthew glanced around at the well-tended garden, the flowers in full bloom, showing off their bright colors. Butterflies wander from blossom to blossom, their fragile wings fluttering on the light breeze.

"Your mother would be proud to see how handsome you've become," His aunt said quietly.

"Would she really...?" Matthew swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"Yes. This is one thing I am sure of... Wasn't your brother suppose to be here with you?"

Matthew grimaced. "He was, but he cause some trouble... And that-" he paused, keeping himself from saying what he really thinking, "And our father's wife made sure he'd get sent away to England for the summer. Even though, she knew we had this trip to see our mother's grave planned for while now." He gripped the fabric of his pants, holding in the uncharacteristic anger bubbling in his chest.

Auntie frowned. "I never liked that woman. She's a witch that scooped up your father after your mother's death."

"Alfred never liked her... And if he didn't hate her before, he sure as hell hates her now," Matthew said, a resentful note finding its way into his voice.

She reached over and patted his hand. "Well let's not linger on her. The sunset is too beautiful for a witch like her."

He nodded and spread some cheese on a slice of bread, his gaze once again wandering to the gardens around him. A butterfly floated and lightly landed on his hand, slowly folding and unfolding its wings.

His aunt gasped softly. "How pretty," she whispered.

He watched, eyes wide with astonishment. "Wow," he breathed, mesmerized by the iridescent simmer of the sunlight off its wings. It flitted off, disappearing between the flowers and blades of grass. "That was amazing..."

Auntie shifted excitedly. "It's a sign! God has plans for you, boy, good ones." She grinned.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Whatever say, Auntie, whatever you say."

"Don't whatever me, I know what I'm talking about!" She crossed her arms and huffed.

He just shook his head. "I'm going to get settled in my room, if you would excuse me."

She smiled. "Of course. It's getting late anyway."

"I'll see you in the morning," he said. The butler showed him to his quarters.

The room was large and the walls were painted a light shade of green. A grand bed was set in the middle of the room, the sheets were made of a fine silk that showed the wealth of his aunt. _This is a little much... My own room is not even this...large._ He unlatched the buckles on his suitcase and set his clothes into the extravagantly carved dresser, neatly folding each one. The light behind his curtains fade and he turned on a light as he opened the door to his bathroom. The gleaming white tiles blinded him with their brightness and he quickly closed the door. "Dang... That's bright..."

He went back to went back to his suitcase, still laying open on his bed. At the bottom of it laid his precious teddy bear, Kumajirou. "Hey Kuma, how was the ride?" He nodded. "That's good." Matthew hugged the well-loved bear and buried his face in the soft fur of Kuma. The old bear had been well taken care of in his long life, every tear was carefully sewed and left only ghosts of former large gaps in the fabric. He sighed and laid back on the bed, fully clothed. Matthew slowly drifted off to sleep, clutching the bear tightly to his chest.

* * *

**I think I might start alittle angel series. I kinda like the idea, although this chapter is more than sucky. I don't like, but whatever. Review if you want.  
**

**-Windy**


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight filtered through pale ivory curtains, a subtle brilliance fluttered over the spring green walls and landed gently on his bed, creeping over his sleeping form as the sun rose higher in the sky. Matthew stirred softly over the weight of the Sun's bright rays, slowly he cracked an eye to the light, but quickly shut it out by throwing a pillow over his let his mind drift, flitting in and out of wakefulness, never quite rousing to anything more than a sleepy daze.

"Young Master, please wake up," a voice broke through his haze of slumber.

Mathew opened his eyes to see a dark-haired butler looking down at him. "Mmmm? Dunn wanna..." His American accent slurred with hints of French undertones.

"The mistress wishes to have breakfast with you, it will be ready soon," he said and without another word, he silently walked out the door.

Matthew groan and rolled out of bed, hitting the ground with a groan. "Maple," he muttered under his breath and crawled under the bed.

As soon as his legs disappeared under the large bed, his aunt blew into his room like a storm and was just about as loud. "Mattie!"

He stifled a groan and looked at her red heels, clicking on the hard-wood flooring. _Why is she wearing such high shoes? Auntie is so weird..._

"Matthew Jones! Do not make me use your fully name!" She stomped her foot to punctuate her sentence.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he groaned and crawled out of the bed.

She looked at him austerely. "What were you doing under there?"

"Good morning to you too, Auntie." He smiled sweetly.

His aunt huffed, "Hurry and get dressed. We're having breakfast now." With a whirl, her dark blue skirts flared out around her and she whooshed out of the room.

Matthew stared at the door, but all he could do was shake his head and slowly got himself dressed.

...oOo...

When he descended down the stairs, he caught a glimpse of the date on his digital watch. _June eleventh... Mom's been dead so long..._ Matthew sighed softly, closing his eyes to fight off the slight burning behind his eyes. Once he regained composer,he walked into his aunt's large dining room to find it empty. The long elaborately carved cherry wood gleamed, but the placements sat empty, abandoned by their mistress. Sliver candle sticks stood tall over the rest of the table, cold from the absence of a long forgotten flame.

"The Mistress is have breakfast on the patio. Follow me, Young Master," the cool voice of the butler sounded from behind him.

He squeaked, turning to face him. "O-oh..."

"I apologize if I startled you," he said as he lead him outside. "The mistress always says I am too quiet."

"It's fine," he replied softly, following behind him. His aunt sat on a white iron wrought chair, her hands laid folded demurely in her lap as she stared over the vastness of her.

"My dear Angeletta," she whispered so softly, he had to strain to hear her. "Are you looking down on us now? It comforts me to think that you are... I hope you're happy up there." She glanced at the heavens above her and heaved a heavy sigh, her bright blue eyes dulled with grief.

"I think...Mother is up there singing like she use to...and when she look down here and sees us smiling," he paused to sit down besides her. "She too smiles... The way she use to, before the sickness become too much."

She looked down at him, only slightly startled by his presences. His aunt was silent for a moment before saying, "I like the way you think, it's so peaceful to think of my sister like that..." She trailed off. Her eyes watered from unshed tears.

He gently took her hand and kissed it. "Don't be sad, Aunt Darcelle. Mother wouldn't want you to linger over her death."

She laughed, but it held no joy. "You are very right." She stood suddenly. "Let us eat, we have business to attend to later." She turned her chair to the table now laden with food.

He picked out some bread and cut it in half, spreading honey over it heavily and squashing the two pieces together. Matthew gobbled down the food, savoring the thick taste of honey on his tongue and the soft warmth of the bread sliding down his throat.

His aunt laughed softly. "You always have loved sweets." Delicately, she plucked grapes from the stem and popping them into her mouth one after one. A smile played on her lips.

Matthew smiled sheepishly and said, "Yeah, sometimes I'm as bad as Alfred when it comes to candy and such."

She nodded, smiling at him. Auntie watched as he filled his stomach on fruits and sweetbreads, although she didn't eat anything more from the large array of food. "Today we will go visit my sister," she said, watching his reaction closely.

His eyes that previously held a smile in them, faded, leaving a dull sadness. "Oaky..." He fell silent.

...oOo...

A gentle windy swept over the area, bringing the scents of growing things on their breath and swirling its way through the grass. The wind's soft fingers brushed through Matthew's hair, gently lifting the smooth waves of blonde as it blew past him and weaved between the marble gravestones.

"It seems fitting that the sun shines today," his aunt murmured. "She always loved such beautiful days."

Matthew remained silent as they approached a elegantly carved tombstone,_ Angeletta William Jones_ it read in large Gothic script, flowers grew neatly around the stone.

His aunt gracefully leaned down and set a thick envelope carefully in front of his mother's name. She prayed softly in french before standing, tears glistened in her eyes and she said shakily, "Shall we go, I can't stay any longer."

"You should go home, I want to stay longer," he said softly. "Don't worry about me getting back either, it won't take long to walk back to your house." He tried to give her a reassuring smile.

She sniffled softly, but nodded. "Don't be too long." Without another word, she disappeared into her car.

He watched as the vehicle pulled away before turning back to his mother's death-bed. Tears gathered in the corner of his eye and sobs threatened to crawl out of his throat, the crushing weight of his heartache dragged at him. With sudden desperation, he ran from the grave, but he didn't make it far before falling to his knees. Sobs tore from his chests as he doubled over and curled up against the never-ending pounding of grief and sorrow.

"Mother," he sobbed out. Slowly his tears stopped, but no matter how many tears fell, they did not fill the growing emptiness in his chest. Matthew let out a huge sigh, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose and wiped his eyes. His movements were slow and mechanical, like he was a robot.

Slowly, he got up and rubs his eyes, trying to calm the burning heat of tears still wanting to escape. Matthew looked around, but did want to return to his aunt when she was most likely dealing with her grief too. He wandered, not really paying attention to where he was going, just walked from grave site to grave site with his eyes pinned to the ground.

"Long time no see, Jeanne."

He froze at the sound of another's voice, his eyes slowly lifted from their place on the ground.

"I hope it's nice in the afterlife," The deep, musical voice belong to a long-haired blonde, the man crouched down in front of one of the older, more worn down graves and he hadn't heard Matthew's approach, and from his back sprouted...wings. Matthew's eyes widened as he gazed over the elegant curve where the man's wings folded against his back and rustled softly.

In awe and fascination, he took walked forward a few steps, accidentally his food came down a twig, snapping it in half.

The man whirled around to face him. "Qui est là?!" Wide blue eyes stared at him as he backed away, trying to hide his wings.

"U-Uh... My name is Mathew Jones Williams... Mon nom est Matthew Jones Williams," he said timidly, his voice barely heard over the sound of the wind singing through the grass.

"You're American...? How long have you been standing there?" The whole mans body was tense, his eyes flickered between him and the blue of the sky behind him. His wings were spread for take off.

Matthew was silent for a moment. "Who is Jeanne?" He glanced at the grave behind Francis, surprised to find it unmarked.

Francis stared at the young man before him. _How does he know who Jeanne is?! He couldn't_ possibly_ know, he's too young! Wait, I was talking to her, he must have heard me..._ While he focused on his inner turmoil, the boy in front of him began to tremble.

"Um..."

"She's no one!" He snapped to attention, finally taking time to see the human before him, seeing that his eyes red from weeping and there was enough sadness there to match his own. He softened his voice and asked, "Who do you cry for?"

"W-What?" A timid voice answered him.

His natural compassion for humans shone through, all angels experienced that for humans, but Francis felt it on such a larger scale compared to other angels. "You have cried for someone, who?"

Matthew looked away. "Y-You didn't answer my question and I asked first..."

Francis blinked, looking into the brilliant amethyst gaze of Matthew Jones Williams. "You're strange for a human," He chuckled, but when his laugh trailed off, his face held unmasked regret. "Jeanne is...was an old friend of mine. She is gone now."

He nodded. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to ask something painful."

"I asked something equally painful, did I not?" Francis shook his head and glanced towards the sky then back to him, wondering if it was too late to run to the openness of the sky.

"I buried my mother here," Matthew said softly, he could barely hear him. "Now we're even."

He blinked, once again looking into his eyes. "Is that so?"

Matthew nodded and dropped his head down. "I must going now, Mister... Mister Angel." He turned away and slowly walked away.

"My name is Francis," he blurted out, not knowing why he just told him that. "Are you going to tell the world about me now?"

"No, I doubt anyone would believe me even if I did." Matthew softly laughed at him.

Francis laughed with him. "Good to know."

"Now I really must go." Matthew paused. "It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah..." He watched as the young man walk away. With a gust of wind, the angel was gone, drifting high in the air above.

Matthew looked back when a the wind nearly blew him off his feet and when he looked back, he saw Francis was gone. His heart clenched slightly at the feeling of being alone again as he hurried along the road to his aunt's home._  
_

Little did he know, he wasn't completely alone. Francis was following him, his large wings carried him silently through the air as he hovered. _I'm just following him because I'm curious about where he lives. He doesn't interest me at all, although I could lose myself in those pretty eyes- Hold it! Focus, I just want to know where he lives._ His flying turned erratic as his thoughts spun out of his control and before he could pull up, he crashed head first into the ground.

"Merde!" He cursed as he rubbed his head.

There was a soft groan from under him. "What the maple...?"

His eyes widened, somehow he managed to crash into Matthew when he fell and now he laid sprawled out on his stomach in front of him. As Matthew slowly began to move, Francis shot like a bullet into the bushes beside the road.

Matthew looked up, startled by the rustling of the bushes. "I-Is someone there...?" There was no answer. "I wonder what hit me," he whispered to himself.

Francis watched him through the bushes, he winced when he saw the growing bruise on the pale skin of Matthew's cheek. _So sorry,_ he thought._  
_

"Who said that?!" Matthew's face twisted towards his direction. Instinctively, he shrank further into the shrubs, only to make more noise as he brushed against more leaves.

"I can hear you." The human search curiously through the bushes. Matthew pushed past the last of the branches. "Mister Francis?"

He laughed. "You've found me."

"What are you-" Francis cut him of by suddenly touching his cheek.

"You have beautiful eyes," he said softly, staring intensely at him. Matthew blushed brightly, his eyes widening at the comment. "So beautiful..." Francis suddenly pulled back, shocked by his own actions.

"U-Uh..." Matthew moved away, cheeks still flushed.

"Sorry!" Francis retreated to the sky, leaving Matthew to gape after him._  
_

Matthew rubs his red cheeks, taking a deep breath. "I wonder what that was about...?" His cheeks blushed again at the thought of his hand against his cheek and he ran the rest of the way home, thinking of anything, but the handsome face of an angel that persistently plagued his mind's eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

The trees offered welcomed shade as he stroll down the drive of his Aunt's home. His head was in the clouds, even higher than the clouds, he was flying over the world in a strange daze. He kept glancing towards the sky, as if he expected the angel to come tumbling from it again. Not even when he nearly fell over a rock, did he ever quite take his eyes from the sky. _I wonder if I'll ever see Mr. Francis again. He seemed really nice,_ he thought as he climbed the steps of the elegant house.

"Auntie, I'm back," he called.

"The mistress is in her room at the moment, if you would like, I can show you to it," her silent butler said, coming from what seemed out of nowhere.

"Ah! U-Uh... Yes, please show me," he stumbled over his words, startled by the silent man's sudden appearance.

The dark-haired butler nodded and lead him away. After two flights of stairs and any turns, Matthew was thoroughly confused by the maze of never-ending hallways that the house seemed to made of, he didn't even think he could find his way back to the main rooms after he passed what looked like the same door they had passed a few minutes before. _All the doors look the same. Auntie really needs to get some maps to hang up around the place._

His mind was so caught up trying to draw plans of what the he thought the lay out of the house looked like, Matthew didn't notice the butler had stopped until he ran into the man's back. "Ah! I-I'm so sorry! I should been watching where I was going!"

Grey eyes pinned him to the ground, the air around him seemed to turn freezing. "It is fine," he said indifferently, opening a door and pushing him in before he could say anything else.

The room around his was dark and a thin line of light, that sneaked pass thick curtains, barely penetrated the thick darkness. An overwhelming sense of crushing grief filled the room, soaked the walls and dripped from the ceiling; coating everything with tar-like sadness that clung to people's hearts and blackened them into nothing but bitter remnants of their former vitality. Matthew threw back the curtains, unable to bear the oppressing atmosphere any longer. The new light revealed a the source of the room's depression, his aunt laid motionless on the large canopy bed.

"Auntie?" Matthew called softly, but when she did not move he began to worry. He approached he cautiously, slowly seating himself on the bed beside her. "What is wrong?"

Her blue eyes stayed pinned to the ceiling in front of her, none of the energy he had seen before bothered to show itself. That fire that always burned so brightly in her seemed smothered by her heartache. "My Angeletta is dead... That is what's wrong." Tears leaked down her cheeks, disappearing into her hair.

"I'm sorry... I miss her too," his voice held the gentle notes of comfort as he took her hand in between his larger ones.

A shaky sob escaped her lips. "You're so much like her, it hurts to even look at you."

Matthew tried not to wince, knowing she didn't really mean anything by what she said. His father was the same, mistaking him for his mother when he had too much to drink or was just too tired to use the right name. More than once, his father had wandered into his bedroom and cried into his shoulder, stinking of alcohol and smoke. He never told anyone, he couldn't humiliate his dear father like that. "I know... I'm sorry."

"I am glad you look like her, it means she is still with me." She sat up and embraced him. "You are my gift left to me by my sister," her voice no longer shook or carried the sadness it had before.

He smiled at her, he felt an emptiness growing in his chest. Even though he didn't believe a word of what his aunt said, it made him feel warmer that she said it. Matthew had long ago convinced himself that things would be better if he stayed quiet and did everything asked of him, but it never seemed enough and he always did something wrong. He blamed himself for all the things he's done wrong, even if it wasn't his fault.

...oOo...

Francis peeked out of the bush he was currently hiding in. _So this is where that adorable little human lives. Let's find out which room mon chaton is occupying._ He sneaked past the smaller girl that was focused on plucking weeds from an already well tended flowerbed, her dark pigtails tied neatly behind her head. She didn't even look up when a twig snapped under his foot, even if she had, all she would have seen is a man, not a angel. His wings were hidden for the moment.

He risked a look into one of the windows on the side of the house, he sighed. "This is going to take forever."

"Second floor balcony," an overly cheerful voice sounded behind him. "You're looking for the прекрасный цветок that is living here, no?"

"Ivan," he growled, whirling to face him. "What are you doing here? I thought you still had another five hundred years before you could return to the human world." The taller man loomed behind him, his leathery wings folded neatly against his back and pointy horns pushed through his pale, blonde hair. Everything about him made Francis's hair stand on end and want to run back to the sky.

The large Russia took a few steps closer, flashing that childish smile that disturbed everyone around him. "I escaped again."

"Then do I need to send you back?" Francis threatened, although fear showed obviously in his eyes. He kept as much distance as he could between him and the Russian Brute.

In one swift movement, Ivan grabbed Francis's chin, digging his freezing fingers into his cheek. "Don't even try, you know you can't."

Francis winced and jerked away from him, a look of disgust showed plainly on his face. "Don't touch me, you filthy demon," he spat.

The cheerful man just laughed at him. "Farewell, I'll be seeing you soon." One leap and Ivan was gone, shooting off into the sky like a hawk.

As soon as he felt Ivan's presence leave the area, Francis let out a breath he had held in, his shoulders sagged from the relief of just having Ivan gone. _So, he's on the second floor? I would say thank you to him if I knew what his business was knowing such things about mon chaton._ Francis saw that the balcony above him, with one quick glance around him, he let his wings out and he flapped onto the short deck. Luck for him, the double doors were not latched shut and he silently let himself into the room.

He observed the room was fairly neat, even the bed sheets were pulled and tucked into place, like it had never been slept in. The only sign that this was someone's room was the lovingly placed teddy bear on the pillow, as if the bear was still sleeping while his owner was away. _Such a cute bear, fitting for sweet Matthieu._ Gently he picked up the bear, running his fingers over the scar-like seams that had been carefully sewn into the stuffed animal's thick fur.

"Have you been loved well, little guardian?" Francis nuzzled the bear's cheek. Footsteps from outside the door alerted him, quickly he set the bear back in his place and hid himself behind the closet door.

Matthew tiredly opened the door, carelessly shutting it before letting himself fall into bed. Hugging Kuma to his chest, he said, "Comforting people is so hard, Kuma. How do you do it? I always rely on you and you never complain." He listened as if the bear was saying something. "I suppose you're right, you are my best friend."

Francis watched him from a crack in the door._ That's so cute! He talks to the little bear._ He could barely contain his laughter as Matthew continued to chat with his bear, the cuteness was overwhelming him. Finally, he opened the door and stepped out. "We meet again, _mon petit_."

His eyes widened with surprise, quickly sitting up. "M-Mr. Francis?" Matthew's face turned a light shade of pink. "How long were you in there?"

"Hm, since you walked in," Francis said, sending a charming smile his way.

Matthew's blush deepened. "You mean, you heard me talking to Kuma...?"

He nodded, unable to take his eyes away from the adorable blush that graced Matthew's face. "So, he's your best friend? That's cute."

"U-Uh... W-Why are you here?" He fidgeted with Kuma's paws nervously.

Francis seated himself on the edge of the bed, still smiling that alluring smile that could melt hearts and make women swoon. "I would like to know you better, _mon cher_. You'll tell me about yourself, won't you?"

"I-I guess... But what would you like to know?" Matthew blushed nervously, keeping his eyes down.

"Do you live here? I see you have a suitcase, but how long are you staying?" He slyly inched closer.

"I live in North America, I'll only be staying a few weeks." Matthew peeked up at him through the curtain of bangs. "I came to France to visit my mother's grave and see my aunt."

Francis took his hand, staring into his eyes, enjoying the red flush that brushed across his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, I can see how much she meant to you."

Matthew couldn't help but stare back, suddenly noticing how close he was to Francis and the strange way his heart was beating. He felt if he were any nearer to the angel, his heart burst from the way it thumped erratically in his chest. "Y-Yes..." Francis set his entire body on high alert, and the way he was stroking the back of his hand made his skin tingle as if he was electrified.

"If I may ask, how did she die?" Francis locked eyes with those stunning gems that sparkled so beautifully with unshed tears.

He held in the sobs that threatened to escape from his throat and the sincere concern in Francis's eyes only made his chest hurt even more. Matthew buried his face in Kuma's soft fur and sniffled quietly. "I-It was c-cancer... I'm sorry, it was a long time ago and I should handle my grief better." He felt arms encircle him and pull him against Francis's warm chest.

"Non, to lose a parent is one of the greatest pains a child can face," he murmured, running a soothing hand through the wavy locks of blonde in front of him. "It is alright to cry."

"I-I'm sorry," he tried to say, but he could barely get it past a whisper. He gave into the need and warm tears spilled down his cheeks, shaking his body with soft sobs.

He held the sobbing boy closer, rubbing gentle circles on his back. "Non, non. It's alright."

Matthew didn't know how long he stayed like that in Francis's arms, letting his tears run down his cheeks into the soft cotton shirt Francis wore. And when his tears finally stopped and only the occasional hiccup escaped from him, he still didn't move; he didn't want to move. He couldn't help but feel wanted while being held like this and he didn't want to budge from his comfortable position in Francis's lap. With eyes shut tightly, he let himself relax and slowly, almost without realizing it, he fell asleep.

"Ah, I hope this crying helped you," Francis said softly, well aware that Matthew was fast asleep. "I do not want to see anymore of those tears, they are too much for someone as kind as you, _mon cher_. If only I could wipe your pain from your heart." He sighed quietly, laying Matthew down on the bed and tucking his faithful Kuma next to him.

"You look more like an angel than me." He gazed over the soft features of the young man's face. Matthew's hair spread around him like a halo, invoking in him a gentle sense of nostalgia for someone he missed so dearly. "Just like my Jeanne."

He pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and slowly pulled away, hoping he did not wake the boy. _Je vous reverrai, mon amour,_ he whispered in his head before opening the double doors and disappears into the darkening sky.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Mon Cher = My dear**

**Mon Chaton = My kitten**

**Je vous reverrai, mon amour = I'll see you again, my love**

**прекрасный цветок = Beautiful Flower**

**I speak neither French or Russian, so please do not be upset if there are sentence in other languages that make no sense at all, I do apologize. This chapter was surprisingly hard to write and it took me awhile to even find motivation to write. Thank you for reading so far.**

**-Windy**


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